


Graveyard secrets

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fem!Stiles - Freeform, Fluff, Mama Stilinski Feels, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 05:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Prompt given to me on Tumblr.  Fem!Stiles mourning her mothers death. Isaac finding her in the graveyard. Scott being a terrible friend and forgetting.  ( very slight Scott and Allison bashing.)</p><p>just a quick little drabble. I'll edit and patch it up later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Graveyard secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this sucks so bad. =_=

Stiles blinked rapidly. 

Large brown eyes filled with hot tears that continued to swell and threatened to fall, but didn’t. Her vision blurred, making the headstone look like a large gray smudge against a back drop of green and a darkening blue. Scott was supposed to be here. He promised he would be here, promised he would get drunk and rant with her. Stiles even went through the trouble of creating a light strain of wolves bane to add to the alcohol so that Scott could feel the affects too. 

Today was important. 

But apparently, Allison was more so. 

Stiles’ took a long swig and grimaced. God, alcohol tasted disgusting. 

"Stiles?"

She yelped and stumbled up to her feet. For one shining moment she thought that Scott remembered and had come after all, but when she turned around she found Isaac Lahey instead. 

"What are you doing here?" She grumbled under her breath. 

She rubbed at her face with the too long sleeve of her favorite hoodie. 

He quirked an eyebrow at her and she scowled in response. 

"I work here still." 

"Oh. Yippee for you." 

He rolled his eyes, “What are you doing here by yourself? It’s getting late." 

"What does it look like I’m doing?" Stiles snarked. “I’m throwing a party." 

She tightened her grip on the neck of the bottle, her eyes were starting to burn.

"Where’s Scott?" He asked softly. 

Stiles turned around with a huff and plopped back down across from her moms headstone, “I dunno. Somewhere with Allison, I guess." 

She ignored the fact that her words were starting to waver. 

She listened to his footsteps and he neared. He stood just beside the stone, a frown tugging at his lips. “Shouldn’t he be here though?" 

Stiles gave a small bitter chuckle and brought her knees up to her chest to rest her head on them. 

"Allison doesn’t like it when Scott hangs out with me by himself." 

Isaac snorted as he plopped down next to her, his hand shot out to steal the bottle from her loosening grasp.

"That’s stupid." He murmured before raising the bottle and taking a long drink. 

He pulled it away and made a pained face, “This is disgusting." 

"It’s laced with wolves-bane." Stiles muttered. She turned her head on her knees so she could watch him as the light faded around them. “I laced it so Scott could get drunk and rant with me." 

Isaac nodded, “Peter always says you’re the only clever one around."

"Lydia’s smarter." 

He shrugged, and passed the bottle back over to her. 

"He still likes you better. Says you have a lovely mouth." 

Stiles shivered, “Ew. God, don’t give me nightmares Isaac." 

He chuckled under his breath. 

She sent him a small soft smile back. 

They let silence sit around them for a while. 

Let the night grow. 

"How did she…" Isaac trailed off. He looked torn between wanting to know and wanting to never speak again. Isaac always surprised her. At one moment he could be so intimidating with his cocky grin and raised eyebrows. Then, in the next, he could be so soft and sweet and unsure. 

"…Cancer." Stiles said after a long moment and a long internal debate. “She was sick for a really long time. It was hard seeing her like that everyday. It was two years ago today."

She couldn’t see anymore. Her vision was just a messy blur of dark and wet. Something warm brushed against her side. It took her a moment before she realized that Isaac had slid over to sit beside her. 

The silence encompassed them again. The only sound was the swish of liquid against glass as they passed the laced whiskey back and fourth.  

"My mother passed away when I was 12." Isaac whispered. “She was in an accident."

Stiles glared at the darkness in sudden anger, and said in a slightly slurred voice, “Mothers’ shouldn’t be allowed to die. They’re … They’re too important." 

From the corner of her eye she saw Isaac nod.

She leaned against him feeling suddenly drained. 

She was just to tired of everything. 

Running for her life, saving her best-friends werewolf ass, trying to make sure her dad doesn’t work himself into an early grave or find out about her hairy friends.  

She missed her mom. Her mothers’ calm comforting words. She…She really just wanted a hug.

"It’s okay, let it out Stiles." Isaac whispered in her ear softly. His arms wrapping around her thin waist. “It’s okay."

When had she started to bawl? When did she latch onto Isaac like he was her only life line?

She buried her face against his chest and let it all out. 

He listened to her rant, sometimes chiming in, other times just humming his agreement. They got drunker and drunker. She got louder and more annoying, but he didn’t leave. Didn’t even let her go. Instead he held her like that for the rest of the night. Occasionally stroking her hair or rubbing her back. His lips brushing every so often against the crown of her head, her temples and the apple of her cheeks where a few tears had gotten stuck. It wasn’t weird or awkward, because it was just comfort, it didn’t mean anything. 

 They stayed at the cemetery long after they ran out of alcohol. Stayed until the sun came up and they were sober enough to stumble off in there own directions. Back into there own lives.

Leaving with a promise to return together in a months times to sit in front of another stone with a different name and another bottle of laced whiskey so that Isaac could rant and Stiles could listen.  


End file.
